"He would not have stood beside the ammunition-waggons when the French
dragoons bore down, and with a loud voice called out, 'Halt! these
tumbrels are powder; another step and I'll explode the train!' How they
reined up and fled! My father saved the train; didn't he, mother?"

"He did," sobbed the widow; "and fell under the wall of the citadel as
the last waggon entered the gate.''

"God preserve Franz the Emperor!" said the boy, with a wild enthusiasm;
"he has given many a brave soldier a glorious grave. But for this," here
he struck his shrunken limb violently with his hand, "I, too, had been
able to serve him. But for this--" a passion of sorrow, that found vent
in tears, checked his words, and he buried his head in his hands and
sobbed hysterically.

The poor mother did everything she could think of to console her son.
She appealed to his piety for submission under a visitation of God's own
making; she appealed to his affection for her, since, had it not been
for his helplessness, he might one day have left her to be a soldier.

"The conscription is so severe now, Hanserl that they take only sons
away, like the rest--ay, and when they are but thirteen years of age!
Take them away, and leave the mothers childless! But they cannot take
thee, Hans!"

"No, that they cannot," cried the boy, in a burst of grief. "The cripple
and the maimed have not alone to weep over their infirmity, but to feel
themselves dishonoured before others."

The widow saw the unhappy turn her consolations had taken, and tried in
different ways to recall her error. At last, yielding to her entreaties,
Hans left the cottage, taking the twelve kreutzers in his hand to buy
his Easter gift.

It was from no want of affection to his mother he acted, nor was it
from any deficiency of gratitude that when he left the hut he forgot all
about the toy, and the twelve kreutzers, and the _fete_ itself. It was
that a deeper sentiment had swallowed up every other, and left no place
in his heart for aught else.

Hans then sauntered along, and at last found himself on the little
projecting point of rock from which he usually surveyed the valley
of the Kaunser-Thal. There, he sat down and watched till the darkness
thickened around and hid out every thing.

When he arose to turn homeward the lights were glittering in every
window of the village, and the merry sounds of rustic music filled the
air. Hans suddenly remembered it was Easter-night, the glad seas